


The Clockwork Knight

by AcrylicMist, Canadiantardis, sugoi



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Angst, Anystuck, Author collaberation, Bullying, Collagestuck, Comedy, Death, Defying Fate, Demonstuck, Drama, Drugs, Fluff, High School AU, Medievalstuck, Multi, Multi Author, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Punk!John, Sacrifice, Shooting, Time vampire, Unrequited, Victorianstuck, pinning, sexual slurs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-05-07 19:36:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5468450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcrylicMist/pseuds/AcrylicMist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Canadiantardis/pseuds/Canadiantardis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugoi/pseuds/sugoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The kingdom is in ruins, its champion murdered by the only one he couldn't harm...<br/>Fire has engulfed everything, and a Seer is forced to watch her brother fight an empty battle...</p><p>The streets run red with the blood a of lover's betrayal, and a General is consumed by regret...</p><p>His blood is blue, and everything stops for just a second. The Knight has failed his Heir.</p><p>All Is lost.</p><p>Or Is It...?</p><p>What would you give to have a second chance...?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Deal Through Time And Space

**Author's Note:**

> Omg that was hard sorry in advance...writerblock and deadline...
> 
> But fun fun x3 
> 
> STILL LOOKING TO RECRUIT AUTHORS FOR FUTURE CHAPTERS :"D
> 
> Thank you sburbanite for beta reading this prologue! !!

You were once told as a child that a person's eyes dull after they die and the soul leaves the body...but as you stare into john's cerulean pupils, you find their still vibrant as ever, lively yet distant and blind...

They show no sign of life, staring deeper than any living creature would dare. Your soul feels naked in the gaze of these blind eyes... stripped bare...

Your guilt and shame lay out on a platter for them to speculate as they saw fit...

Really you could stare into them until the world stopped turning.

 

Hell, you could stare into them until you died...

This seemed very likely to be your future, given the way things turned out tonight. Dropping to your bruised knees you fall before the heir, and finally you unclench your tightly wound fingers, dropping your sword it's hilt is warm from your grip. The blade is covered in the blood of fallen warriors, slimy and coagulated.

You lift your hands to close his eyes, but you notice your gloves are soaked in blood as well. Yanking your glove off, you go about wiping your hand on dry the soil beneath you before returning it; you don’t want to get blood on his pretty face. You lean over and gently run your fingers down his pale eyelids, watching as his delicate lashes close for the last time.

It should have been you lying there...why did he have to throw himself in front of you?!

Dammit! You would have gladly died for him!

You scowl, feeling a dark smoldering pain twirling in your chest. A wave of nausea courses through you, making your body heave against your will. Pain radiates up from your torso where blood has begun pooling, soaking your maroon armor a sickening red and running down your legs.

You raise your head taking in your surroundings as fire consumes what remains of the kingdom you once with pride called home. By morning you expect nothing to be left of Prospit but carnage filled ruins.

You stare at the once golden walls now slick with the blood of its people.

The demons of Derse broke through the veil of light that once protected your world from theirs...

They overran your people in mere seconds cutting down anything and everything that opposed them. From the streets to flooding into the kingdom, tearing apart the dreams, the memory, and very life of your world...

They didn’t have a chance.

You didn’t have a chance...

You lift your burning eyes to the prophesied moon, glowing a traitorous hue of green and wonder what prospit did to deserve this...?

"I’m sorry...” you whisper feeling your lips move, and hearing your apology fall on deaf ears.

You were once a Knight... But you don’t think you deserve the honor that came with the title as you once did....

 

A twing snaps and your head whips around, pulled from your internal dilemma, searching the shadows for wolves or whatever beasts are expected to be attracted to such a bloodbath. Your eyes fixate on a figure is slowly sauntering toward you from west of the shadowy gates, moving slowly as if stalking its prey.

Something about the air of confidence in its posture is almost alarming, and the fact that it doesn’t seem daunted at all at being discovered is even more...

Your eyes aren’t adjusting to the dark as fast as you'd have liked them to, instinctively you raise your sword and tilt it, letting the green fluorescent light of the moon glint off the jagged edges of its blade, using it to mirror, and direct the moon's light, as well as a gesture of intimidation.

You feel the numbness nibbling at your limbs: a result of the still bleeding wound in your lower torso, (courtesy of Jake's sword which found its way through your back - how could dirk be so blind?).

Deep down you know you wouldn’t be able to fight much longer even if your prince wasn't lying in a puddle of his own blood...

The fleeting light from your blade reveals a lanky figure with stark white hair, you would have assumed it was your brother, but not even dirk was this tall. He wore a vibrant white suite of some unfamiliar sort, adorned with silver pins neatly lining the chest; you'd never seen fabrics like this before. Everything he wore was white save for a green lace wrapped around his neck.

The shadowy figure strolled casually toward you until he reached the end of the dirt path a few steps away. There he stood hands laced behind his back as if he's patiently waiting for something...or someone?

You subconsciously squint at his shadowed face, trying to make out features in the shadowy dark. When your eyes lock for a split second, the clouds disperse momentarily.

Your breath catches in your lungs and the dread you felt makes its presence known as your stomach practically backflips.

You can't seem break eye contact; you are locked in this creature's gaze...

This man is not human; all you needed was one look to understand that...

His eyes sickening green surrounding narrow, white, sightless pupils. His face was youthful graced with sharp features on an angular face, but his skin looked as if it was painted on, chalky, devoid of any substance...

Like that of a statue or portrait...

The friendly smile the creature had plastered on his face was contradicted by the sad look in his eyes as he stared down at you. You get the suspicion he...pities you.

Even for a...whatever he is, you can't really blame him, you've lost everything, you’re in shreds, your brother is dead, they've killed the prince, his sister, the king.

There is no future for you or anyone of prospit.

All Is Lost...

"What do you want?"

You ask blandly, having given up trying to look formidable, instead you let your body relax, slumping back against john's body, cringing at how cold he's become but not having enough energy to move. The presence of this intruder is really starting to piss you off, even if there's nothing you can really do about it. You just wish he'd get it over with and kill you already, it’s not like you have anything left to live for anyways.

"Oh? Is that so? And what about your sister Rose...? "

His quiet voice was metallic and raw, but calm and knowing. 

"Ro-What?!"

Your head snaps back to his face in shock, and recognition of your sister's name makes the cogs in your muddled head start turning. 

"She's not dead!?"

This man knows of your sister?! Where is she?! You had forgotten about her completely in your state of despair! She could be dying right now and you would be sitting here mourning about your loss while she bleeds out!

"I’m so selfish!" you mentally scream at yourself with disgust.

"How the hell do you know my sister!?" you demand, your voice a panicked croak, "Where is she?!"

You begin swinging your head back and forth wildly, trying desperately to catch sight of her, but to no avail.

"If I find you've hurt her!" You scream wishing you had more energy. Damn humans and their mortality!

"Shuuuuush..."

Suddenly hands are touching your face they're soft and freezing to the touch, they feel like dry ice, rough but cool caressing your cheeks as the stranger coos at you, as if you were his child.

"Your sister is safe with me, pretty little thing she is... I saved her life you know? The demon quipped proudly.

"So you already owe me, but now’s not the time for that, I'll collect that debt later..."

Thoughtfully he tilted his head to one side, green eyes trained to gazing into the middle distance, pondering his next words carefully.

"Tonight, I've come with a proposition for you boy."

"A what...?", you ask dumbly, still trying to process and make sense of everything that’s going on.

"What would you do to fix all this?..."

"Fix this?. Fix wha - "

" Everything! " He gestured to the chaos surrounding the two of you with a distasteful scowl

"W...what are you saying?" you feel your heart beat picking up speed making your head dizzy and warm.

"Silly boy, I’m offering you a second chance, a new life, your prince, your brother, everything!" the man snapped impatiently.

You sit there, mouth gaping, shocked by his words and the meaning behind them, but also recalling the cautionary tales your eldest brother raised you on, warning you never to trust a demon...

Dietrich vanished without a trace one night, you’re not sure what happened, but one thing you know without a doubt... Wherever he is...

He is dead and more than likely he was killed by said demons...demons are predatory creatures by nature. They’re attracted to those weak and in need, like you are right now. You can’t let this demon get the best of you…

"Just what are you playing at demon?" you spit steeling yourself against the increasing pain radiating from your torso and lean up to fix the demon in a stony glare.

You'd probably have pointed your sword at him again as well, but damn you were hella tired and all feeling your arms, even though you didn’t notice at first, seem to have turned into numb needle pricks.

You don’t think you could manage to move even if you wanted to...

This must be what it feels like to die...

You wonder darkly if this is how john felt as he died...

"You can save him you know..."

The demon tilted his head conversationally, regarding you with sharp eyes, an amused smirk playing across his lips while ignoring your question altogether.

"Oh yeah? And how can I do that?!"

You bite out in frustration, leaning to the side despite your body's protest and gesturing to the prince's dead body.

"Looks like you’re a tad late demon, the prince is already dead! Ha ha! So...no saving needed here, nothing. Nadda. NOW LEAVE!"

You feel your lips peel back in a sneer as the harsh words leave your mouth.

Much to your irritation the demon just takes a step forward seeming ignoring your previous outburst.

"Stop being ignorant child, I Have the power of the universe in the palm of my hand, and I think we both know full well what that could mean...For you and your little dead prince..."

"I don’t need your help..." you mutter uncertainly...

Eyes trained on John's lifeless body.

What if he is telling the truth and you can bring john back?, you ask yourself, this guilt nibbling at your resolve and clouding your judgement.

"Yes you do...you can have it all back...all you need is a pact"

You feel your heart jump in your chest, pacts with demons are very dangerous. You notice the demon's voice starting to take on an odd echoing fullness to it.

"And so what if you could? What am I to give you in return? What is the price of this pact, Demon?"

You stare narrow eyed knowing the answer before it even begins to speak.

"I think we both know what that is..."

The demon chuckles darkly, his White eyes remaining downcast as he regards you with little interest.

Above the clouds crawling across the darkening sky begin to finally break showering the world below in tiny cold droplets. Raindrops pelt your armor, soaking into your clothes and cooling your burning wounds, lifting your chin toward the sky, you let the cold sprinkles drizzle down your face...

It feels nice...

"What will happen if you…you know…take my soul..?" you can’t stop your voice from faltering.

"You will become like me" 

"A demon..?"

"Yes, a demon."

 

You chew at your bottom lip, the taste of dried blood and sweat filling your mouth as you mull the deal over it in your head. It doesn’t take you long to contemplate the offer, you’ve already made up your mind.  
"Okay, I’ll strike a pact with you, their lives for my soul...that’s what you wanted right?" your starting to feel a little light headed...

"Well, if you put it that way, you'll make it sound so boring." The demon pouts dramatically down at you before continuing on..."How about we make a little game out of all this? Make things a little more interesting"

"Me lying here bleeding out while an egotistical demon whines about being bored isn’t entertaining enough..? Oops, my bad"

The demon gives you a distasteful look, obviously the beauty of well structured snark is lost on him...

You flash him your best shit-faced smirk. Sadly, your dark humor is short lived as pain shoots up from your stomach, knocking the wind from your lungs.

"If you can save your prince, he is yours, and so is your soul"

"But I tho-" you start confused only to be silenced by the demon's raised hand.

"But if you fail and he dies...well then both of your souls are mine..."

"What do you mean both our souls!?" you spit, "Your pact is with me, and me alone! You have no right to bring John into this!"

"On the contrary, your prince's soul is already corrupted, since he died at the hands of a demon itself. If you decline my offer you are simply offering up his soul for whatever hungry demon that wanders past to do with as they will ..."

"W...what!?"

You’re stunned, realizing that he knew all along you'd agree to this stupid pact. What choice did you have...?

"The only chance you have to save his soul is though your pact with me..."

The words echo in your head repeatedly, swallowing back the sickening feeling crawling up your throat, you nod slowly, hating yourself for falling into what most likely is a demon's trap.

"Good...." He says this with a grave finality.

"But first..." Abruptly dropping to his knees in front of you, silently he pulls a metal contraption connected to a gold chin from around his neck hidden beneath the green scarf.

"You’re running out of time. We need to fix that!" Despite the cheery tone of the demon, you can't quell the fear welling up inside you.

But the fear is quickly replaced by wonder when the demon dangles the steel contraption in front of your face...

You squint at the sphere eyes drawn to it. "Its mesmerizing..."

The words slip from your mouth before you can think to stop them...

"Yes it is, and it is yours, it will be with you every step of the way..."

It's glowing with the same unnatural hue as his eyes, the "tick-tick" sound it's making makes you suspect it's a clock of some sort although you've never seen anything like it before...

Half white half black, small and circular with countless little sharp spikes. You think you might have seen them move, but it might just be your vision failing, you can’t be sure. You watch him as he removes one of this immaculately white gloves revealing long green clawed fingers, silently flexing his fingers as he discards the glove carelessly to the ground. Leaning forward, he braces one hand in the grass beside you while his other reaches for your armor, gently removing the bloodstained metal.

The lack of metal feels unnatural, you feel naked and vulnerable without your armor...

The cold breeze hits your wet stomach, chilling the sticky blood soaked fabric, sending shivers through your body. You feel the cool metal against your skin as the tiny sphere is placed directly over your heart.

Much to your horror the object starts to twitch and pulse there, its spines digging into your clammy flesh.

Irritation quickly escalates into pain as the tiny ball begins burrowing its way into your chest. The pain of your stab wound is nothing compared to this, your numb fingers yank at it trying to dislodge the thing but to no avail.

Your screams are deafening, but all you can here is the sound of metal tearing meat...

Flesh begins to tear and you feel new warn blood running down your chest, you can't breathe, your lungs won’t work...

Your head begins to spin as the world goes black around you...

 

When you open your eyes your face to face with the demon, he's leaning over you on one knee,

"Oh, good. I was starting to think you’d died on me."

You notice his white gloves are gone, revealing long white nails, covered in blood, the silver bloody chain once connected to the sphere is wrapped loosely around his wrist.

The sphere is nowhere in sight. You try to look down at your chest, but you can't seem to move. Your whole body feels somewhat numb, you still feel pain but it’s dulled somehow. Your limbs feel like rocks, too heavy to move correctly.

"Now it’s time to end this.." The demon's voice echoed within your head, sardonic smile on his face, you can see sharp teeth lining his mouth. Placing one pale finger in his mouth, you watch green blood leak down his hand as his finger catches on the jagged points

He reaches out and caresses the side of your face, blood smearing unseen symbols across your cheek, a clawed finger rises to hover over your left eye. With no energy to move , your left with your head pounding as your tired eyes try to focus on it..

You initially think he's going to stab you in the eye with it, and quickly squeeze your eyes shut anticipating the pain. After a few moments of silence and no mutilating eye stabbing, you take a chance and peek open your eyes only to yelp and clinch them shut again, as the bloody finger hovering over your face seeps green blood down into your open eyes.

Blood clouds your vision, searing your irises with electrifying pain and forcing beads of blood and tears to well up in your tear ducts.

You claw at your face trying to disperse the pain, but the burning doesn't stop, somehow the pain has travelled from your eyes to the fresh wound on your chest where he placed the mysterious clockwork instrument.

Hs cool fingers press against your mouth, as he shooshes you again.

"It won't hurt too much, just don’t fight it and it'll be over with before you know it!"

The demon’s cheery tone made you want to punch him in the mouth.

The fire under your flesh has traveled from your chest to the rest of your body, and you feel it burn its way through you like a disease, leaving fire in its wake. Green veins begin to crawl their way two and fro through the corrupted flesh beneath your skin, merging with and corrupting existing ones.

Lower down a bright green rune symbol begins to form winding up from your thigh, and swirling in on itself just above your hipbone and ending just shy of the torso. After the symbols appear they begin to burn into your flesh, creating wreaths of smoke, the stench of burn flesh fills the air, as the rune begins to take

Deep lines cut through skin as it begins to engrave its self, as if it were controlled with black magic.

Your lie there curled in on yourself whimpering through the pain, your eyes are open but everything looks wrong, too clear, too bright, it stabs into your brain…

You feel yourself fading into unconsciousness, but something’s still bothering you.

"Where's rose..?" your voice sounds scratchy, tongue feeling like cotton in your mouth.

"Your sister is with me...she's already struck her pact.."

"Wha-"

You want to yell but your mouth isn’t moving right...all your movements seem to be slowed down, your shock isn't making it to your face.

"It’s time. Remember Dave, to save time you must give and take it....don't give out to much of it, never let your time run out, because when it does you die...and your soul will be mine"

Dave ======>>>Wake

You jolt awake, the bed creaking beneath your weight, beads of sweat rolling down you face.

With shaky, unsteady fingers you untangle yourself from the mess of bedsheets and stand. You inhale sharply through your nose as your feet hit the cold floor, but the chill is making you feel more alert, so it’s fine. The room is dark but your red eyes take in your surroundings with ease.

You’re in the master bedroom, its white ceiling accented by dim lights. Fluffy black carpet covers select areas of the tiled floor, and your bed is in the middle of the spacious area, with its huge assortment of burgundy silk-covered, down filled pillows. Three tall windows stand at the end of each corner of the room; in the morning the sun will shine sending three pillars of light throughout the room.

Slowly, your eyes come to rest on the last window, its thick black wooden frames worked in a circular pattern (you thought it would be ironic), you notice it’s been left open all night..

The slight breeze has the thin ghostly curtains writhing around like ghosts of the past. You don’t feel like thinking about that anymore tonight, so you make your way quietly over to the windows, clipping the metal lock closed and smoothing down the silk curtains.

The time is 3:33AM and you by no means plan on staying up, instead deciding that a drink is in order before returning to the land of dreams and bad breath. The hall is dark as well but you can see quite fine, your eyes are made for darkness, your 100% sure that your eyes are glowing right now, you shouldn't have forgotten your shades.

Movement from the living room draws your attention...

 

With a small smirk gracing your lips - you are pretty sure of the origin of the sound - you creep on to investigate anyway. Upon entering the living room you find a sleeping boy sprawled out on the leather sofa.  
You don’t understand why he insists on crashing the couch, when he has a room not to mention his very own bed.

But here your brother rests, fast asleep, his usual steely face is replaced with a peaceful angelic calm, a lanky arm strewn across his face. His pale blonde hair is stuck up every which way. Silently, you fondly ruffle your fingers though it, an action he would never let you do if he were awake.

As an afterthought you lift his chin up, revealing his throat and the transparent numbers 39:30 00 flickering across his neck in the dark.

39 hours, 30 minutes until fate tries to right itself. No wonder you’re feeling anxious.

Wandering back to the fridge you fill a glass of water, and retreat back to your room before you end up disturbing your little bro. The moon's silver rays shine through the window pane of your room , bouncing beautifully off the billion-dollar antique handcrafted swords that line your walls, a memento of your past. One of your pasts, that is. The real one.

Your alienware laptop sits on your work table, and on its dim-lit screen you can see your messenger pinging.

You’re not really in the mood to chat with anyone at this ungodly hour, but you've been looking to hire a tutor for dirk. Not that he really needs one.

Quickly, you sit down and wake your laptop from sleep mode . The screen jumps to life, making you squint your eyes until they adjust. Your pesterchum icon is blinking alerting you of a new message, quickly you double click it, feeling somewhat giddy and eager to see it was a reply from Dirk' s potential tutor.

[10:30PM Ectobiologist] Hi, Mr. Strider i was wondering if you received my credentials yet?  
If not that's fine... but i would like to talk to you about a possible interview date? Your little brother wont be the only one im tutoring in my free time so  
I'd like to get a hands on look at what he needs best focused on so i can set time aside adequately!  
So…let me know when you get this ok?

Thanks!

John Egbert! :B

Smirking to yourself you quickly shoot off a short message before returning to bed.

[4:20AM turntechGodhead]

Don’t bother, you're hired.


	2. Too Fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave has only a week of school to stop something he doesn't know from killing half the school. 
> 
> What could cause a massacre like this?
> 
> *Trigger warning: 
> 
> Bullying, sexual slurs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter by Canadiantardis
> 
> Thank you for your hard work :)

Waking up in a new dimension is always a disorienting experience, no matter how many times Dave has jumped into a new world. He closed his eyes one second in one world, and when he opened his eyes again, he found himself in a familiar, yet unfamiliar room, surrounded by things that on the one hand looked like his things, but he knew they were not originally his.

Slowly, Dave sat up from the bed he found himself laying down on and took inventory over himself and the situation. A springy bed with only the bare minimum pillows and blankets, posters of what Dave could only guess were singers from the microphones and strange angles they posed in, and a computer blinking with a message for him. Modern life, he guessed.

Getting up and heading to the computer, he saw the mess of shirts, pants, and socks somewhat scattered on the floor and dressers. To anyone’s unaware eye, Dave’s room would look like the average teens room, messy but with personal flair.

He shook the mouse to wake up his computer and check the message, frowning as the familiar handle was bolded with a new unread message.

_Hey, you have the notes for science? Rose says I’m not to be trusted with her notes anymore after the last time…_

Dave checked the time the message was sent, sighing when he realized it would be too late to send a reply and expect him to read it. Apparently his original self in this dimension had fallen asleep before he saw the message, which made him wonder why this dimension’s Dave would sleep so early.

Looking around the room again, Dave began to take stock again. _Okay, so modern world, sounds like high school or something… What about relations?_ He thought, looking for anything that might help in the room.

He found pictures on the dressers that helped. He saw himself looping arms around Jade and Rose, saw John climbing on his back with a hand in triumph over their heads as he seemed to laugh, he even saw a formal family portrait of himself, Dirk, and their adoptive father, who always looked creepily like both of them without being related to him.

 _So, only family is Dirk and Bro. Seem to be friends with everyone already, that’s helpful._ He thought. _Now I just have to figure out what could cause fate to attack…_

Running a hand through his hair, Dave stumbled back to his bed, deciding to wait for morning.

* * *

 

“Dave you never answered me!” John seemed to pout as he practically ran full kilter into Dave, as if trying to make them fall over each other. “Please give me the notes, I can’t fail the test!”

Dave groaned as he managed to keep the two from falling as Dirk slipped past them with a smirk, already heading for his own friends in the junior wing. “Let me get them from my locker first?” He said the statement more as a question as he pushed John off of him to head for his locker, shaking his head as he tried to rid the image of the timers he saw from both his brother and John from their contact.

A week, and Dirk seems to die several minutes before John does, which makes Dave wonder again, what would be the cause?

He got to his locker finally, and saw Jade and Rose look over at them with knowing smiles as they came forward.

“John’s almost literally falling over you, Dave.” Rose said, smiling at the pink appearing on both boys as John finally let Dave get his personal space back. “Aw, come on, you know I’m just teasing.”

“Yeah, we already know everything. So you want to keep it a secret, what’s the big deal?” Jade asked, hooking an arm around John good naturedly.

Before John or Dave could answer, the four heard commotion around the corner and they took off, wondering what was going on.

There was already a small crowd circling the situation and Dave saw the wild black curls before he heard the shouting.

“Get off me, you fucking asshole!” Karkat shouted as another teen managed to pin him down and the four heard punches against both flesh and the floor as some missed their target.

“Stop moving, faggot.” The voice wasn’t too familiar to Dave, but this dimension’s Dave recognized the voice of Caliborn easily, and before he really knew what he was doing, Dave had entered the fray.

“Get off him. Now.” Dave said in a low voice, causing the two fighting to pause and look up at him, Karkat with thinly veiled relief and Caliborn with utter contempt.

“Oh, yeah? And why should I?” He sneered before looking frightened as Dave picked him up easily by the front of his shirt, physically moving him away from the slighter teen.

“Because I know you only have one more strike before you’re kicked out.” Dave said in a voice low enough that only Caliborn heard him and gave him a death glare. “Not that I care, but you’ll also get Kar in trouble and I’d rather not hear him bitch and whine about it.”

He let go of Caliborn’s shirt, making him stumble away with a glare that would rival the creatures from the castle before shoving his way past the circle. As he did, Dave barely remembered to hide his confusion at how strange Caliborn’s timer was. It was frozen, but at the same time jumping from a week to a couple days from now to several years in the future.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Dave turned to the quickly dissipating crowd and to Karkat, who was just getting up, dusting himself off with his permanent frown already back on his face.

“You didn’t have to do that. I had him right where I wanted him.” He grumbled but Dave and Jade both patted his shoulders, knowing it was a lie.

“Yeah, sure buddy.” Jade said with a smile, but it slipped quickly. “What happened this time?”

“Don’t ask me. The fucker just saw me and decided ‘oh, let’s hash it out with this fucker right here since none of his friends are around.’” Karkat raised his pitch in a bad imitation of Caliborn’s voice. “I was just going over to you guys.”

“Why is it always you? Do you have like a target over your head for assholes?” Dave asked, a frown appearing as he saw Karkat’s timer, with a lot less time than both John and Dirk. It seemed something big was going to happen in a week, and it felt like it was starting with Karkat. A full hour between his death and Dirk’s and Dave had yet to know what was going to happen.

“Apparently only for Cali-douche.” Karkat sighed, rubbing his face in annoyance, and in a low voice, he grumbled. “Thanks I guess. You always have my back, Strider.”

“Course, buddy.” Dave mentally shook himself, a small smirk on his face as he put Karkat in a playful headlock before classes started.

* * *

 

Despite outward appearances, Dave was getting worried. The week was nearly up, and in a few short hours a massacre was supposed to happen in the school. It didn’t seem to be just towards his friends, but random students and even the odd teacher, today was going to be a day of blood.

And it would all start with the spitfire that was Karkat.

Dave spent most of the morning before classes started with Karkat and John, under the pretence of ‘just want to hang with my bros, you know?’ and kept a worried eye on Karkat’s timer as it slipped closer and closer to zeros across the board.

“Class is going to start soon, and I have to shit. I’ll see you asshats in Bio.” Karkat said, detaching himself from the two guys to head for the bathroom and Dave felt ice shards in his veins as he realized as soon as the bell rang, hell would begin.

He turned to John. “Hey, man, I forgot something for class. I’ll see you there.” He lied easily, and upon instinct, he quickly kissed John chastely on the lips, making the boy freeze. They had never kissed in school, and were still early in the relationship, so the sudden PDA seemed to short circuit the blue-eyed teen.

Dave quickly raced away, heading for the bathrooms where he had seen Karkat wander off to, knowing he was cutting it close. He wondered what he could do, since he had nothing but his powers, which he was still getting used to, and his wits. He couldn’t bring any weapons, didn’t even have any good, sharp weapons at home much to his surprise, but he knew he would have to do something.

He reached the corner to the bathroom, mentally ticking down Karkat’s timer when he froze at the sight in front of him.

Karkat stood pressed against the wall between the boys and girls bathroom, eyes wide and crosseyed as they refused to leave the barrel of the shotgun shakily pointed directly at his face, his hands up in surrender and Dave could see the slight tremor of his friend even from where he was.

The one holding the gun wore a mask, but even Dave could tell who it was by the posture, by the clothes he wore and immediately began to think of a plan.

In the few moments it took Dave to think of a plan, he and Karkat heard the cocking of the shotgun, saw it steady, and heard the sneer.

“Bye, faggot.” The gun fired.

Dave didn’t need to think anymore. He flashstepped, pushing Caliborn enough to make him miss, and the contact allowed him to steal the weird energy that made Caliborn impossible to tell when he would die, immediately giving the stolen time to Karkat, who stood dazed and terrified, and if Dave cared to look down, he would have noticed the darkening stain on his friend’s already dark sweatpants.

“Dave?” He gasped, blinking quickly as Dave grabbed his wrist as the alarm sounded, letting the entire school know about the intruder.

“Come on!” Dave pulled the limp teen behind him, running far from the bathroom. “We have to go.”

Karkat spluttered, trying to ask some sort of question but Dave ignored him as they ran to a yet-to-be-closed door and ran into it, finding it was their Biology classroom filled with a different class. Their Bio teacher hurried them in, not caring they weren’t supposed to be there and quickly closed the door, directing the two to where the rest of the class was in the corner.

“Everyone. Stay quiet.” Their teacher said, even as he shook in fear, along with everyone else but Dave.

It was deathly silent for several minutes, besides the scared, hitching breaths of the other students, and Karkat’s violent shaking, before everyone stilled at the sound of a scream and another gunshot. Several of the girls in the class silently slapped their hands over their mouths in fright and Dave racked his brain to figure something out. He had to get back out there and either stop Caliborn completely or stop the deaths of his friends, but first he had to leave the classroom.

There was also the problem of Karkat, who had somehow found Dave’s hand and held it tightly, as if loosening his grip even by a fraction would make Dave disappear. He had to keep his friend safe, but didn’t want to leave him alone.

The answer came to the classroom, as they heard heavy stomping and everyone huddled even closer together, the teacher silently and shakily putting a finger to his lips to keep everyone quiet, but it didn’t stop the fraction of a second as someone shuffled their feet and their sneakers, which must have been still new, squeaked against the dirty tiles. The steps outside stopped before a loud crash happened on the door, and a few of the students cried out despite themselves.

The door smashed opened and everyone saw the shotgun first, pointed randomly before it fired, and Dave quickly moved out of the way, pulling Karkat with him. Screams filled the classroom and red pools started to form already before Caliborn stepped into the classroom. Dave could practically hear the glee Caliborn exuded as he saw Dave and Karkat, steadying his hand for another shot and Dave went back to his knight training, quickly wrapping his arms around Karkat, picking him up bridal style and flashstepping away, a bit slower with the added weight, but they managed to escape before the shotgun fired, and passed Caliborn quickly out the door and down the hall.

“Dave, what the fuck? What about Mr. S?” Karkat wiggled from Dave’s hold, finally getting over his shock, at least for now. “What about that class?”

“I… I don’t know. I couldn’t see you die…” Not again. I thought once was enough. Dave kept a strong grip on Karkat’s hand as they now ran side by side before Dave realized something.

An hour had passed, Dave had no idea where Dirk was, and he only had seconds.

Dave turned around suddenly, desperate to save his brother before he heard the shot and flinched, the mental timing perfect.

“We… We have to find John… or the others.” Dave found himself muttering, spinning in the middle of the hall. Jade and Rose were safe, at least for now. They wouldn’t die until after John, so it left Dave enough time to save them.

“Let’s just fucking get out of here!” Karkat cried, somehow keeping his voice at a more indoor tone, but in the quiet hallway, it still sounded loud. He pulled on Dave’s hand, heading to where they knew John would be and Dave followed, plans flying through his head like snow in a blizzard, too fast and too many to see properly.

They got to the door to John and Dave’s homeroom class, but not quick enough as they saw the back of the mask that covered Caliborn’s face as he used the shotgun’s butt as a blunt instrument to open the locked door, and in the quiet, when he took breaths between swings, the two could hear him giggling. Actual, high pitched, gleefully insane giggling, and Karkat paled in fright while Dave grew stony. He was so close to John, so close and yet separated by the very person that was fate’s way of righting the wrong Dave had agreed to back in his original dimension.

They saw Caliborn break the door open and with a final bark of laughter, he blindly shot in, allowing the spread the shotgun produced to attack anything before he stepped in with a spring to his step.

“John…” Dave breathed, mentally counting down and rushed to get to the door, but Karkat made him slow.

“If you do that, he’ll just kill you along with everyone else.” He hissed, eyes desperate as he winced with all the screaming coming from the open door. “John’ll be okay.”

“No, he won’t be, Karkat.” Dave snapped, his shades clattering to the ground from when he spun around to face his smaller friend and before Karkat could do anything, Dave snatched his hand away and ran into the classroom.

But he was too late. In the same way Dave found Karkat over an hour ago, he found John pressed up with no place to run, but unlike Karkat, John had his arms wide, as if protecting their fellow classmates from Caliborn as the masked teen pointed the gun to John, and before Dave could flashstep, before he could do anything to alter time, the gun shot and all Dave could do was watch as most of the spread, because of the proximity, hit John’s body. The force of the bullets pushed him into other bodies as the bullets passed through Dave’s boyfriend, striking the students John had been trying to save.

With a roar Dave dived at Caliborn, knocking him to the ground and struggled with him, grabbing the gun and knocking Caliborn out quickly. Screams and chaos bombarded his eardrums, and he could tell one of those screams were his own as he tried to look over at the large pile of meat that had been John and several of their classmates.

“John!” He gasped, crawling to his boyfriend, his soulmate, hoping against blind hope that he could do something, but there was nothing he could do. As soon as he brushed his hand over John’s knuckles he knew.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he felt his thigh burn, as well as his eyes as he tried not to cry, and knew he failed again.


	3. Time In full

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A different universe. A different John. Plus a whole new different set of problems. the only thing that's the same is that this John is just as doomed as all the ones that came before. Dave is used to fate screwing him over, but this time, maybe things will be different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This lovely Chapter was written by AcrylicMist
> 
> Thank you!! ♥

It was always easier when John recognized him. There was nothing worse than hunting him down only to find those blue eyes pass over him like a stranger’s. After everything Dave had done, all the deaths, he thought the least John could do was take the time to know him.

This time, John did know him. Or, he knew this universe’s version of him. The problem was, Dave nearly didn’t recognize John.

He was older. His buck teeth had straightened out as he grew into his face better. Those brilliant eyes were dimmed with a persistent sorrow and he walked with a slouch. His timer was set firmly in place, time leaching away by the seconds to a date little more than two days in advance. Not long, but not as short as some timelines and doomed universes he’d dealt with.

Dave fell into step behind where John walked with his eyes fixed on the pavement. They cut through the crowd without drawing attention to themselves. As Dave followed behind, he took the opportunity to really study this version of John.

His black hair was longer, jet black. There was a steel ring through one eyebrow and he wasn’t smiling.

Dave’s heart might have stopped beating long ago but it could still ache at the sight of his prince, brought low and weary by burdens unknown.

Dave took inventory of his surroundings. He’d landed in a city. The shapes had bled into existence between one second and the next, and the blood of a different John he’d again failed to save vanished from his hands. His clothes shifted into a white tee and black ripped jeans. There was a beanie covering his pale hair and dark sunglasses in his pocket. Tall skyscrapers loomed overhead and the streets were clogged with people. He was still new enough in this world to feel dizzy and out of place.

When John stopped at a rusty bus stop, so did Dave. In this crowd he couldn’t risk losing sight of John for even a second. They boarded the same decrepit bus, and it clanked and rattled off to some destination. Dave took a seat behind his charge, who hadn’t noticed he was being followed. Oblivious as always, he fiddled with his phone throughout the journey. The scene seemed innocent enough. A lanky teen catching a ride on only slightly dubious public transportation. Dave wondered what it was that would try to kill him in two days and succeed unless Dave managed to stop it.

Dave couldn’t resist the urge to try and talk to him, if only for a second. He leaned forward.

“Hey,” he said, “Do you know where this bus is headed?” it was a simple question, innocent enough.

John was slow to look up from his phone, face lined with irritancies. His eyes flew open in shock when they met Dave’s and the timetraveler felt a jolt of relief that this John knew him.

“Dave?” John asked, incredulous and disbelieving. His mouth gaped open.

“Sup?” Dave tried to sound nonchalant. There was something about the look on John’s face that made the hair at the back of his neck prickle.

“You’re not him,” John said at last, and his mouth closed into a hard line. “You’re not that Dave.”

“Why not?” Dave asked. There was something different about this, something he hadn’t encountered before. John’s timer continued to count down.

“Dave is dead,” John snapped, an unfamiliar anger rising in him. “He died when we were thirteen. Whoever you are, you’re not him.”

The bus jolted to a stop, brakes squealing. John bolted for the doors as soon as they lurched open. Dave remained behind in his seat, watching John run from him like he was toxic. He wondered how many times his heart could break.

…

 

Dave was waiting the next day at the same bus stop. Predictably, John arrived right on schedule. 26 hours left until the mystery death occurred. Two hours after he got off this same bus tomorrow, something would end his life. Dave couldn’t let that happen.

“Hey, sorry about yesterday,” Dave started, a fake smile plastered onto his face.

John took one look at him and sighed, the line of his shoulders uncomfortable and tense.

“If anything, I should be the one apologizing to you,” John said, looking to the side as he refused to meet Dave’s eyes. “Sorry to blow up on you like that, it’s just… you look so much like him.”

Dave heard the raw vulnerability in his tone and took his chance to fix what damage he’d managed to do the day before. “The Dave you lost?” He probed lightly, seeking to understand.

John nodded. Dave’s throat felt tight at the lie, but he had to adapt to the situation quickly to prevent John from getting hurt. The ghost of his dead friend walking around wasn’t an idea Dave could stomach.

“Well,” Dave said, “I don’t know about this other Dave, but apparently we share a name and basic facial structure.”

John huffed out the world’s smallest laugh, and his eyes shone brighter for a moment. “Yeah you do. It’s kind of creepy.”

“Creepy?” Dave asked, mock offended. “I will have you know, creepy is such an outdated term of insult. That word belongs only on the shelf of some stuffy museum alongside outdated Halloween decorations of shitty skeletons and happy pumpkins.”

This time John laughed for real. His smile was still contagious, and Dave felt himself grin in response.

“I’m John, by the way.” John said, sticking out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Dave shook his hand. “Dave, and likewise.” He said.

“What brings you to this side of town?” John asked curiously. “I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Just passing through,” Dave said. “I’m only sticking around for a week.”

“That’s so cool, do you travel a lot then?” John asked excitedly, his enthusiasm overwhelming. It had been ages since Dave had just… Talked to John like this. As friends. The opportunity was too precious to pass up.

“Yeah, I drift around a lot,” He answered. He didn’t ask how this universe’s version of him had kicked the bucket.

“That’s just so sweet, dude, you have no idea how awesome that sounds.” John said, chatting away. “I’d love to travel, to see new places and meet new people and eat weird food. Honestly, that sounds like the best kind of life.” John’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at it hurriedly. His happy expression fell off in record time. Blink-and-you’d-miss-it.

“Oh,” he said softly. The phone’s screen was turned away from Dave so that he couldn’t read it. The bus lurched to a stop. John stood up to go. This time Dave stood with him.

“I didn’t know this was your stop,” John commented. Coldness had settled over his features again, that glimpse of the John he knew before hidden away again.

Dave nodded wordlessly. He followed John off of the bus.

“Are you headed somewhere?” Dave asked casually, trying to steer the conversation back into lighter waters.

“Nowhere special,” John shrugged.

“Mind if I join you?” Dave asked. “I’m still trying to see the city and all. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”

“Man, I’m really starting to envy your lifestyle,” John smiled. “Sure. I’d love to show you around.”

Dave fell into step behind him as John pointed out landmarks and markets as they walked.

“That’s the bakery my friend Jane works at,” John said, pointing to a small shop that smelled like fresh bread as they walked past. “They have the best cakes there. And Jake lives down that street, and Kanaya in that brick building with the nice windows.” He went on and on, sharing his city with Dave so selflessly.

When his phone buzzed again, Dave could make out the caller ID right before John forcefully shut off the phone and slipped it out of sight in a deep pocket. The ID was only two strange letters. TC.

“Who was that? They keep bothering you.” Dave asked, instincts tingling as he watched the red counter continue to plummet.

John made a strange face, part unhappy, part scared. “Just my boss,” he waved the issue away. “He’s being a raging asshole is all.”

“I have experience with raging assholes,” Dave smirked to hide his sudden unease. “They never go away on their own. I’ve found a special medicated cream works wonders.”

John nearly snorted with amusement. “Man, that is so lame.”

“But funny.” Dave pointed out.

“Alright, I’ll admit it. You’re a funny guy,” John said. “But I don’t think some special cream can solve this.”

“Why not?” Dave asked carefully. He knew he had to tread lightly.

“I… I own him some favors, I guess. Its stupid.” John tried to brush away Dave’s concern.

“What kind of favors?”

“Nothing. Just running some errands. Meeting people, picking some stuff up. Things like that.”

John was never good at lying. Evasion was a thing he sucked at across all universes. Dave was certain that somehow, this was tied into why he was here.

The phone rang from inside John’s pocket, blasting out an annoying ringtone until John managed to fish it out. “Yeah, what is it?” he snapped into the phone, turning away from Dave. “Yeah, I know. I’ll be there.” A pause. Dave could hear a drolling voice on the other end, someone slow and unsettling. Now John was angry, and he kept his words short. “I know, will you just shut up about it already? I’ll figure it out then. Bye.” He hung up the phone, and Dave could see how white his knuckles were where they held the device. John looked like was considering just throwing it through the nearest wall, but he broke and slid it reluctantly back in his pocket.

“Everything alright?” Dave asked.

John let out a nervous laugh, breathless. “Yeah, just a raging asshole. Nothing I can’t take care of.”

They had walked out of the nicer parts of the neighborhood. The pavement cracked underfoot along with broken glass. The skeleton of a car squatted forlorn from the side of the road.

“You’ll mind you step, won’t you?” Dave asked. “It sounds like you’re into some shit here.”

“I can handle shit,” John snapped, turning his anger on Dave. “Listen, you don’t know me. I don’t know you. Keep out of my business.”

Dave was shocked, but desperation pushed him forward. If John was really into some kind of shit, it might explain why his time was running out. “Listen, I just don’t want you to stick your neck out and end up losing your head over some sketchy ‘Favor’ for some son of a bitch you doesn’t give a shit about you.”

“And I’m supposed to think that you do?” John demanded, scoffing. He studied Dave’s face for a moment, and something sad crossed his eyes. “You’re not that Dave,” he said. “I don’t have to listen to your opinions. I can take care of myself.”

He turned away and marched off. Dave considered following him, but pain kept him away. John could grieve and head towards self-destruction all he wanted. He could even be cruel. But, tomorrow, Dave was going to find some way to save him. He just had to.

…

 

Dave spent the night arming himself. He didn’t think this John was in danger of randomly walking out in front of a bus so that meant Dave had to be prepared for whatever kind of shit John had managed to bury himself ass-deep in.

It was easy to get a sword from an antiques store. After everything he’d been through, a little burglary wouldn’t stop him. With the use of minor time shenanigans he was in and out before the alarm ever let out its first high screech. He had never figured out where John lived, but he saw that familiar head of hair as he stepped off the bus the next day. Two hours and rapidly falling. Time was running out.

John was dressed differently. His normal blue was switched with a black hoodie and dark jeans and he walked like he had a chip on his shoulder and a score to settle with the world. Dave hung back and followed silently.

John twisted through the tangled streets with the skill of someone who knew where he was going and didn’t want to be followed. Dave was good at being unseen, and John had no idea that he had a shadow. The minutes drained away, and with each one Dave grew more and more tense.

John stopped deep in the heart of the crumbing district. Overhead loomed an abandoned warehouse with shattered windows. The parking lot was a sea of busted concrete and shallow oily puddles of filth.

John was on the phone again, his voice too low and muffled for Dave to make out. John was clearly pissed off about something, and he kicked a chunk of pavement with his foot as he waited.

Dave crept closer, silently, as close as he dared. 30 minutes left. The sword at his hip was a comfort, its steady weight a promise. Dave never took his eyes off John. 15 minutes, and nothing had changed. Just the wind softly sounding through the broken windows.

A dark SUV rounded the far side of the building, engine snarling. The windows were darkly tinted and allowed nothing from inside to be seen. Dave clenched his fingers around the sword hilt.

The car came to a stop. John kept his distance from it. The back doors opened and several strange men climbed out, followed by a tall woman in a black and green dress with ebony skin. A lit cigarillo burned in one elegant hand. She stepped out of the SUV and stood in her high heels like this back alley was scrubbed into her skin. She was as beautiful as she looked cruel.

She was clearly in charge, and she called John over with a small flick of her fingers. Dave scrambled closer, feet turning over broken glass. He hoped the sound of the engine covered the noise as he settled into place, much closer this time. Close enough to act when the time came.

John approached cautiously, his common sense kicking in at last and too late to help.

“Are you Gamzee’s new messenger boy?” She purred, reaching out and taking John’s chin in one sharp nailed hand. His mouth tightened as she turned his head this way and that way like he was a strange insect to be studied.

“Yes,” John answered respectfully.

“Pity,” she sighed. “You’re prettier than most of them have been.” She let go of his chin and he took a step back. “Do you have what was agreed?”

John pulled the backpack from his shoulders and unzipped it. He was roughly shoved aside by one of the woman’s minions and the bag was taken.

“It’s all there,” John said desperately. “Every cent.”

“Boss,” A menacing man said, holding out a folded wad he removed from the bag and fanning the green bills. “It’s legit.”

John let out a visible sigh of relief. He shuddered as he steeled himself. “Do you have the reply?”

She wordlessly motioned a hand and two men began unloading unmarked boxes. She slit one open with a razorblade and dipped her fingers inside. She held up an orange bottle and shook it so the contents rattled. Pills. Dave felt sick to his very soul.

John, what have you done this time?

The men continued to empty the bag and count out the stacks of money.

“If it’s all there, you may take the boxes and be on your way,” the woman said. “I’d advise you to stay away from Gamzee, boy. He isn’t a good dealer, and you’re too pretty to die as scum.”

“I’ll remember that,” John nodded, his blue eyes wide and scared. He looked so young. A kid playing gangster.

The last of the money was counted, and set back into the bag. One of the men nodded. “It’s all there Boss. Gamzee’s good on his end, that sorry motherfucker.”

“For once, it seems you might be right.” the woman said, breathing out a puff of smoke from her cigarillo. “Let him go.”

John sagged visibly, his legs shaking. He hurriedly began to bag up the boxes with trembling hands.

“Wait,” the woman said, her arm hard across the chest of one of her minions, her eyes were sharp. “Let me see that bag first.”

John froze, his back to them as he tried to fit all of the pills in his bag. His hand went into his pocket and pulled out a small black square with a red button on the side. His back was still to the mobsters.

The woman ran she slim fingers over the bag, ruffling through its contents and over the seams until she felt something that wasn’t supposed to be there. With her razor she slit open the lining and drew out a small black wire and box that had a tiny red light blinking on it.

“Morons!” she hissed, and she backhanded the man who had handed her the bag. John quickly hit the red button and dropped the small cube. He kicked it away with his foot before he stood up and raised his hands.

All of John’s fear had fallen away. Like this, he looked dangerous. John smiled at them and shook his head. “Sloppy,” he said. “You’re slipping, Snowman. The Felt’s done for. They know.”

“You fucking Narc,” A man said, and punched John solidly in the gut. He fell to his knees and spit at the woman’s shoes. Sheer rage crossed her face, making it like ice and fire all at once. Then it was gone, and she was smooth and calm again as she strode over and again took John’s face in her hands.

“Pity,” she said, breathing smoke into his face. “If only you had the brains to match your looks, boy.”

“Boss,” a smaller man said, picking up John’s cube from off of the pavement. “They gave him a panic button. We need to book it out of here.”

“Gather up everything,” Snowman said at once. “We’re leaving.” She crushed the wiretap under her foot. It crunched like a soda can.

“What about him?” a man said, drawing out a red crowbar from the SUV.

She smiled the smallest, coldest smile Dave had ever seen. “Boys, you know what we do with traitors and Narcs. Kill him, and leave his body for the cops to find. But don’t touch his face, I want them to be able to recognize him. And it’d be a shame to destroy something so lovely.” She cooed softly, stepping into the SUV.

Dave was already in motion, running, as the man lifted a revolver. He drew his sword, but there was too much ground between him and John and the gun so he reached out through the air and seized hold of the man’s timer with his mind. The numbers began to drain away like sand in an hourglass. Years… Months… Seconds.

The man hit the ground as Dave threw himself into the middle of the fight. John was there, eyes wide. “Dave?”

“No time for that, look out,” Dave warned, leading with his sword to block a man with a machinegun hard enough that the steel bent from the strike.

John may have been unarmed, but he could still throw a mean punch. Sirens shrieked in the distance, red and blue lights flaring to life.

“Run!” Dave yelled, dragging John with him as the mob turned as one to where police and squad cars raced at them. This was their chance to escape. John didn’t hesitate, bolting with Dave as gunfire broke out behind them. Bullets bit into the wall in front of Dave and ate the pavement at his feet, but he didn’t stop and neither did John. His heart would have been racing if he was mortal.

He managed to drag John around the side of the building and out of the line of fire. John was gasping, heaving in deep breaths. His eyes were blown wide, sweat lined his brow, and blood was soaking the fabric of his hoodie with each passing second. He set two fingers to his own chest, and they came away red.

“John, no.” Dave said, pain ripping through him.

“Looks like they got me after all.” John said quietly, then his legs sagged, blood dripping.

Dave caught him before he hit the pavement and pulled the other boy into his lap, fighting back tears.

“You’ll be fine, you’ll be okay.” Dave muttered, his hands frantic as he tried to stop the bleeding.

“Hehe,” John said, “Doesn’t matter anyway. Please,” he said, his bloodied hand coming up to catch one of Dave’s. His voice was frantic with fear. “Tell my handler this isn’t his fault. Tell Gamzee he’s the best cop in the city. Tell him to keep fighting.”

“Why?” Dave asked, swallowing around his pain and the lump it left in his throat. “Why did you do this?”

John closed his eyes. “Because they killed you,” he whispered. “You were jut thirteen years old and a stray bullet hit you. I had to take them down.”

Dave felt the core of his chest crack open. One second stretched into the other, bled out in blood and pain.

“John, no.” Dave said, cradling John in his arms. “It’s okay. It’s alright.”

“Dave?” John whispered.

“Yes?”

“Thank you for coming back,” John said, “If only for a little while. Seeing you… gave me the strength.”

This was all backwards. Dave was always meant to be the one dying for John, not the other way around. At the end it didn’t matter. He’d failed again. He still he held a dying John in his arms and whispered shaking words of comfort to him as John’s timer finally hit zero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes it's been forever but fear not we are still pushing to finish this
> 
> Thia fiction collaboration is still on!
> 
> The post was taken down but if your still interested in doing a chapter for the collab just comment

**Author's Note:**

> Participating authors names will be listed as chapters are posted!  
> I know i get weird ...if you have questions just ask c:
> 
>  
> 
> -rolls around in johndave fics- x3


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